Someplace I've Never Been
by labyrinths
Summary: This is very brief and very AU. Prometheus crew in high school. David's human.
1. Chapter 1

**Someplace I've Never Been**

**By Hedge Labyrinth**

Note: This is very brief and very AU, because someone told me they were wondering what David would be like if he was a teenager (a human teenager).

* * *

Despite the social cache of his family (being a Weyland ought to count for something) and despite his good looks, David doesn't have friends. He doesn't think friends are necessary. David plays chess, watches movies and paints tiny little model cars. He plays basketball (by himself) and he reads.

David knows he is weird. Meredith, his half-sister, never forgets to point it out. Meredith is very popular, though her social status is a calculated equation: Meredith has calculated everything. She has picked her extra-curricular activities in order to line-up the perfect admission process to the perfect university, she will obtain the most useful degree, meet the right classmates, graduate, obtain the ideal job, and go on to a fruitful political career.

Meredith is every bit her father's child.

David has a hard time admitting he is related to Meredith or Peter. He sees nothing of them in himself except for a vague physical resemblance. Though Peter says "he's a boy, he'll grow up," David knows he'll never be like them.

David is not like anyone else.

It's not that David doesn't like people (he doesn't really, but he can cope), it's just that people don't like David. David isn't good in crowd situations. He needs something to anchor himself. Often it's tactile. Like he'll need to hold on to a piece of paper or cloth when they start talking too loud. He likes to touch things. The texture of a sweater, the softness of a leaf, the roughness of a wood chip. People think this is weird.

People think it's weird that he watches so many movies. He's watched _Lawrence of Arabia_ 55 times. He has 234 model cars. There are 75 glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling, the remnants of his childhood (he just turned seventeen).

People don't like it when David repeats lines from movies (_Lawrence_ is a favorite of his) and because he dyes his hair the boys call him fag (he wants to look like Peter O' Toole).

When he was little, he remembers Meredith telling him he was a robot. David thinks being a robot would be nice because he wouldn't worry. David worries about his schedule, about teachers expectations, about social encounters. He worries quite a bit.

David doesn't have friends, but he likes someone.

Elizabeth Shaw transferred to his school two years ago. She lived all over the world, in Africa and Asia, because her father was a missionary. Her father and mother are dead. She lives with her aunt. David's mother is also dead.

Elizabeth speaks many languages and he likes that. He likes how she's smart and doesn't try to hide it. He likes how she smiles.

Elizabeth has a boyfriend. His name is Charlie. Charlie is popular and a little insolent. Charlie throws lots of parties and all the kids go to drink and have fun at his place. David doesn't go. Charlie doesn't like David.

Charlie calls David "boy" when he sees him in the hallways. David thinks Charlie is juvenile. Though they are the same age, David considers himself a different creature entirely.

David doesn't like Charlie and he wouldn't want to ever be Charlie...except Elizabeth loves Charlie.

Sometimes when David is in the library, he glimpses Elizabeth behind the stacks. She glides by and he stares at her (his father told him not to stare, it makes people nervous) until she's gone. Elizabeth doesn't notice. But that day it's been raining and when she walks around the corner, thick stack of books in her arms, she slips on a puddle. David extends his arm and steadies her. The books clatter onto the floor. Without a word, David gathers them all and returns them to her.

"Thanks," she says.

"It was my pleasure."

He ought to have shrugged or said "yeah" (play it cool, like the boys do), but David can't help being formal about these things.

She nods and walks away.

Later he sees her again in the hallway. She smiles at him and she blushes (he has no idea why she blushes).

David smiles back. He feels just like when he was small. He sat in the dark, counting the stars on the ceiling, picturing himself somewhere he'd never been before.


	2. Chapter 2

**Someplace I've Never Been**

**By Hedge Labyrinth**

Note: I thought I might as well make this into a three-parter, since people seemed to like it. I think I'll do Charlie's POV for the final part.

* * *

When Elizabeth's father died, a small part of her died with him. She feels the death deeply knit inside her womb; an unbearable sadness. Charlie does not understand this. He is a happy creature, a bouncing, merry satyr.

She loves him because he does not understand. He is happy and he brings a smile to her lips.

She is his "babe," she is his "honey," she is his "Ellie." There is something to be told about being wanted like this, even if Charlie has his insecurities (she is _his_ girlfriend, _his_ Ellie) and his sour spots (when he drinks, and he enjoys his drinks).

Sometimes Elizabeth worries about Charlie. He talks about their post high-school life (it's always _their_) in a very definitive fashion: they'll attend the same college, share an apartment, years down the road they'll get married and have children. Charlie doesn't even want to be an archeologist, but he is willing to like it, to major in it, so they can be together. There is something desperate in Charlie's affection, a desire to consume and overpower Elizabeth. It scares her.

But she loves him. She does.

She wants to live with Charlie. She wants to go to college with him. She wants to marry him. She's still a girl, but she cares about Charlie.

But...

(Aren't teenagers supposed to absolutely love each other; Romeo and Juliet love each other? Why can't she love him as desperately as he loves her? Has death – her mother's death, with a child in the womb; her father's death in Africa – numbed her so much she can't simply love without questions?)

...there is this boy...

(She doesn't know him. She barely glances at him)

...there is this weird boy.

David Weyland, with that odd walk of his, back so straight and yet managing to somehow shuffle his feet. With that faraway look.

Most people dislike David.

Charlie...well, Elizabeth knows – call it intuition, call it an educated guess – that Charlie desires Meredith as much as he hates her brother. Elizabeth does not really understand why Charlie would hate David. He's a harmless kid who mumbles things under his breath and spends his days staring at people, or head bowed, glancing down at his hands.

Millburn, who is Elizabeth's lab partner, once said he thinks David has all the characteristics of a _burgeoning _sociopath. Millburn watches too many crime shows and he hangs out with Fifield to boot, which means they very likely spend their afternoons smoking weed and developing conspiracy theories, but Milburn is right about one thing: there's something off about David. He's not totally there.

Not that it should matter. David lives in the periphery of Elizabeth's eye, in a nowhere space.

David doesn't really matter...

...but there is this something..

After David picks up Elizabeth's book s in the library she spends a whole night chewing on her pencil and frowning, unable to do her homework (shocking, it's Charlie who generally procrastinates and forgets to turn in his papers).

Two days later she's got her book bag and she's heading to the parking lot. She sees David waiting there, standing very still and looking ahead. It's late: she volunteered to help with the props for the school play; Ravel convinced her to help and Elizabeth is generous at heart. Most of the other students have gone home. She has no idea what David is doing.

She hesitates and speaks.

"Hey, do you need a ride?" she asks.

"My sister takes me home in her car," he says.

"Oh," Elizabeth mutters. "Is she running late?"

He check his watch. "She is three hours and fifteen minutes late."

Elizabeth bites her lip and tries hard not to laugh or wonder why he hasn't phoned her. There's something hilarious about the son of the guy who basically owns the town not being able to find his way back to his house.

"I can drive you home," she says instead.

Somehow she doesn't think David would do well hitchhiking.

"Good," he says.

Elizbeth's car is a small, old thing. She hasn't seen Meredith's car, but she doubts she's driving a second-hand automobile. Still, David makes no comment of it, merely extending a hand and touching the air freshener shaped like a little pine tree hanging from her rear -view mirror.

" You live in the big house on Ripley Lane, don't you?" she asks.

"Yes," he says. " Except when we spend the summers in my father's homes in New York or in Rome."

If it was someone else she'd think he was bragging, but it seems to be a matter of fact with David.

Elizabeth turns on the radio, switches through the stations and settles on something jazzy. David stares at the dial, then stares ahead of him.

"Do you have plans for the weekend?" she asks because it seems rude to drive the entire way in silence.

"I am assuming you are going to William Janek's birthday party tomorrow night," he says, evading her question.

"It's a good assumption," she says. "And you?"

He doesn't answer and Elizabeth thinks that's the end of that. Then he speaks up.

"I'm watching _Lawrence of Arabia _and then I'll take out the telescope so I can look at the stars."

"Are you like an astronomy buff?" she asks.

"My father is spending a lot of money on researching space travel. One day, you'll be able to live on a colony on the moon."

Elizabeth smiles at that. The rest of the trip is spent in silence. When they reach the iron gates to his house, the big W prominent at the top, Elizabeth parks the car.

"Thank you for your assistance," he says.

"It's fine," she says, chuckling.

"Do you like stars, Elizabeth Shaw?" he asks.

Elizabeth thinks about the night sky in Africa; it felt like forever, like always, was extending above her head. She might touch God's hand in those moments. She nods.

"I do."

"Good," he says. "I won't mind if you care to use my telescope, if you wish."

"Um, thanks," she says. "But I've got a thing tonight."

"Fine," he says as he steps out of the car.

He does not seem disappointed and his voice sounds firm and proper. Elizabeth places her hands on the wheel and hesitates for a heartbeat. She rolls down the window.

"Maybe next week," she says.

He stares at her, with one of his long stares.

"I could check out the telescope next weekend."

"Good," he says.

The corners of his lips lift tentatively and he cracks a smile.

"Night, David," she says.

She glances in the rear-view mirror and watches him stand there in the middle of the road, not waving bye or anything, just looking at her. She smiles and brushes a strand of hair behind her ear.

Elizabeth has a boyfriend...but there is this boy...


	3. Chapter 3

**Someplace I've Never Been**

**By Hedge Labyrinth**

Note: Sorry. I had to do Meredith's POV before Charlie 'cause she's too much fun!

Reviews are fuel. :D

* * *

Meredith hates David. This hate is one of her oldest and most cherished emotions.

She hates everything about him, from the sound of his voice to his face (she sternly tells anyone who might even suggest that they resemble each other that this is impossible) to his irritating personality. If one could call whatever David has a personality.

As far as Meredith is concerned, her hate is justified. David is a thief, a usurper. Though chronologically they are separated by a mere year, the divide between them could span several galaxies.

While Meredith is the child of Peter's rightful wife, David is the child of his mistress. Meredith had seen little of him in the early years of her childhood, enough to know he was the son of _that _woman and that he was her half-brother. But he lived in his own apartment, with the bitch that had birthed him, and all was well.

Then, around the time David turned eight, the bitch had the gall to die. Her father had carted David right into their home, where he grew and festered like an open sore. Meredith is sure her mother divorced father over David: the double-insult of bringing her the brat, and then the added sting of giving him his name.

David _Weyland_.

When Meredith turned thirteen she started calling herself Meredith Vickers, thinking the name had been utterly soiled by that moron that shared some of her genetic code.

And he is a moron. Asperger's Syndrome coupled with depression, the kid is stuffed with as many pills as he can stomach.

He is _weak_. He'd tried killing himself three years before (he said it was an accident, her father thought differently) and had to spend eight months on a very nice, very quiet clinic from which he had emerged with lessened aggressive outbursts and impulsivity (and a cartload of medications, including risperidone).

Meredith isn't weak. Her father wanted an athletic child? She woke up every morning and did her push-ups, she joined the volleyball team (he can't play team sports). Her father wanted a smart child? She studied hard and obtained perfect grades (he has a photographic memory but his narrow, repetitive interests reduce his grades). Her father thought social connections were useful? She dated Janek, who bored her but was the son of an army captain with an excellent set of friends (he has never dated anyone).

Meredith is the superior child. Yet she always senses her father loves David a little more. She is supposed to be a princess and instead she feels like a beggar at a banquet.

Even tonight, as she prepares to go out with her friends, there is a looming pressure over her shoulders. Dissatisfaction, which she cannot show (a polished veneer is what her father wants, and what she gives the world). Sadness, which must not be indulged.

She walks by David's room and hears voices.

Meredith stops in her tracks.

David does not have friends over. He doesn't have friends, period.

His door is half-open and she quietly looks inside.

He's with a girl. She's using his telescope and they're standing close together by the open window.

David is not touchy-feely. He can get very damn _pissy _(outright violent when you catch him on his bad days) if someone is even close to him, but he hovers next to the girl.

"…is Rigel. It's a B-type blue supergiant and the sixth brightest star in the night sky. It'll pass to the supergiant stage soon, collapsing into a supernova. Or it may turn into a white dwarf," David tells the girl.

"Meaning it no longer undergoes fusion reactions," she says.

Meredith recognizes that voice. That's Elizabeth Shaw, that prim little thing with her Catholic schoolgirl shtick. What the hell is she doing in David's room?

"Yes."

"Mmm."

Well, at least Elizabeth doesn't sound very enthused by the conversation. She'll probably be running out of David's room any second now. With good reason.

"Doesn't it make you sad, looking at all these stars?"

"Why would it make me sad?" he asks.

"They're so far. We are but a speck in the universe, separated by huge distances. The forces around us…they're so alien. Will we ever even understand anything that matters? Will we ever have any answers to our great questions? It makes me feel so…lonely and disconnected… and lost."

"I don't feel like that at all."

Elizabeth glances up at David and Meredith can almost see the question mark hovering above her head.

"All the elements heavier than hydrogen originated inside stars. The silicon in microchips, the carbon in your pencils, the iron in your blood, they were all created in the heart of a star, when in its last gasping breath, it exploded over 4.5 billion years ago.

"We are the children of the stars. Orion and Sirius and Rigel are our cousins. That's why we look at the night sky and want to touch heaven: We want to return to the place where we were born. So, as you can see, we are never alone because the stars are always inside us."

Elizabeth laughs and goes quiet. The soft, dark silence of space dances in the confines of the room and Meredith thinks they look perfect together; like the stars they are talking about. Elizabeth raises a hand, her fingers hovering close to David's face.

Meredith bites her lip, tasting blood, and she has the bitter desire to break something beautiful.

She steps back quietly, quickly, and then yells loudly.

"David! Are you in your room?"

She pretends to approach the door for the first time and David opens it wide, looking down at her.

"Ugh, there you are," she says rolling her eyes. "Look, I'm heading out. My cell's out of battery, so if Dad's wondering where I am, tell him I went over to Idi's house and I'll be back around midnight."

"Of course," David says.

Meredith looks over David's shoulder, affecting a bored pose and spots Elizabeth standing behind him, like a deer caught in the headlights.

"School project?" she asks.

"Yeah, we are calling it a night," Elizabeth replies.

Meredith shrugs, like she doesn't give a damn and simply heads down the stairs. When she reaches the car she pauses to admire herself in a little compact and stuffs it back in her purse. She glances at the cellphone, which is fully charged, and smiles as she starts texting Charlie Holloway.


	4. Chapter 4

**Someplace I've Never Been**

**By Hedge Labyrinth**

Note: One more chapter/drabble to go!

Reviews are fuel. :D

* * *

Whenever Charlie sees David Weyland he has a curious sensation, like he's both superior and inferior to the weirdo. Superior because Charlie can claim a great social status, a cute girlfriend, friends, athletic achievements and charm, none of which David possesses. Inferior because David's cool, composed blue gaze seems to cut him at the knees.

_None of that matters_, David's eyes tell him. _You don't matter_.

David is wealthy and he is good looking, but he's so much _less_ than Charlie. It makes Charlie happy to know that. To know that David may memorize his homework with a look at a page, but that he's unable to strike up a conversation like a normal person.

At the same time, there is this underlying terror: that David might grow up to one day be a successful, well-adapted young man while Charlie descends into nothingness. Into obscurity.

Charlie wants to be so many things, he wants to have so many things, and he resents David because he can have it all so _easily_. He's a Weyland. Silver spoon, palatial home.

Charlie resents David because he's so _fucking_ close to perfect and he doesn't even realize it.

Charlie has the nagging feeling he's Caliban to his Ariel and it stings.

Charlie despises David.

And then Meredith texts him out of nowhere: _Guess who's having a sleepover with my brother? Hint: Starts with an E_.

And Charlie spends the whole night tossing in his bed, wondering the million ways he's going to beat that fucker into a pulp.

Next day they head into the gym. The other boys are getting ready to play, diving into teams, while David tosses hoops by himself. He never plays with them. He does his hoop tricks and that's about it. If he wasn't a Weyland, Charlie is sure the teacher would fail him.

Charlie grabs a ball and dribbles it. When he is at an adequate distance, he tosses the ball, hitting David in the back. David turns around. He doesn't look surprised.

"Hey, fucker, they tell me you've been hanging out with my Ellie."

David is taller than Charlie but he seems to constantly fold into himself and he doesn't look very menacing. His posture reminds Charlie of a stick insect.

"We were looking at the stars," David says lamely.

"Who the hell gave you permission to do anything with my girlfriend? You've got some balls, boy."

The other kids are now assembling around them, hungry sharks sniffing for blood. Their presence energizes Charlie and he closes his hand into a fist.

"You've got to learn some respect, dude."

Charlie strikes him hard, in the gut. David bends and wobbles. The boys erupt into laughter. The Weyland kid is about to get a whopping. Someone's going to teach that uppity boy a lesson.

They all love Charlie. They hate David. He makes them uncomfortable and you've got to squash those that are different. Squash them like roaches.

Charlie strikes again, his knuckles connecting with David's jaw. There's pure energy coursing through his veins. His heart beats fast and he's so damn happy because David doesn't look so perfect when he's on his knees, with blood marring his face.

And then, as Charlie is savouring the moment, David stands up. David's hands dig into his neck. It's so fast. Charlie can't do anything but gasp. The fingers tighten around his neck with vicious strength. Charlie's gulping like a fish, the edge of his eyes is filling with black.

He knows the others are trying to pull David off him, but they can't do it.

David's got him in a death grip and he's not letting go.

Then, finally, Fifefield manages to pry David away and Charlie flops onto the floor, his mouth open wide.

#

Ellie pushes the curtain aside. He's so glad to see her. Charlie sits up. His throat is raw and the antiseptic smell of the hospital is making him a bit sick.

"Hey, babe," he croaks.

She seems relieved…and irritated. Charlie coughs.

"How are you feeling?" she asks.

"Never been better."

Ellie looks down and shakes her head. "I can't believe you did that, Charlie."

"I? Psycho there tried to strangle me."

"They said you picked a fight with him."

"No, he started it."

"How? He was—"

"Trying to steal my girl, that's for sure."

Ellie frowns and crosses her arms like she does when Charlie does something she dislikes, like drink a few too many beers or drive a bit too fast.

"We were hanging out. Chatting."

"Since when do you hang out with David Weyland?"

"Do I need permission?"

"Ellie, he spent time in the loony bin. He's nuts. Everyone knows that."

"Oh, everyone."

"Yeah. He's psychotic."

"He's _not _psychotic."

"Yeah, this is very non-psychotic," Charlie says tilting his chin up so Ellie can get a good look at the bruises on his neck.

Ellie does not reply. Ellie is kind and Charlie thinks she probably sees David like a lost puppy. But that doesn't mean he's going to let the boy infiltrate their lives.

"He's a nice guy, Charlie."

"Nice?" Charlie scoffs. "Can we focus on me for a second? I was almost murdered!"

"I know—"

"No, you _don't_ know. You're always too wrapped in yourself to know."

Charlie doesn't mean to be cruel. Or rather, yes, he means it, but he wishes it wasn't so. He wishes he was a better man, one who wouldn't always go looking for the weakest point in his opponent.

"Charlie, please," she says and extends her hand, trying to touch his shoulder.

He flinches, rejecting the gesture, and shakes his head.

"Don't talk to him again."

"Charlie!"

"It's me or the freakazoid, baby."

"That's not fair!"

Elizabeth clamps her mouth shut and he can see her eyes are bright with tears. He's torturing her.

"It shouldn't have to be a hard choice, Ellie! You don't even know him! If you really loved me, it would be no choice at _all_."

Ellie is sniffling. Charlie stops. His mouth turns, sadly.

"Ellie, baby…"

Charlie opens his arms and Ellie hugs him. She buries her face against his chest.

"Come on, baby, I didn't mean it," he mutters against her hair.

He hugs her very tight, willing her to stay by his side. Elizabeth is slipping away from him, bit by precious bit, and one day soon he'll never be able to put the pieces back together again.


	5. Chapter 5

**Someplace I've Never Been**

**By Hedge Labyrinth**

Note: Go listen to something corny like "First Time" by Lifehouse. And done. Finito!

Reviews keep me writing stuff.

* * *

He is waiting for her in the parking lot. It's late and Elizabeth has been fiddling with backdrops for the play for far too long to do anything but sigh as she sees him. Any regular boy might have given her a call or talked to her in the school's hallways, but David seems to think this the appropriate way to make contact with her.

There is only the faint shadow of a bruise on his face, where Charlie hit him, and he looks awfully serious as he nods at her and extends a hand, offering her a white flower.

"For you," he says.

Elizabeth looks at the flower and then back at David. She doesn't take the offering.

"Um...thanks. What are you doing here?"

"You said we'd watch the meteorite shower."

"David, that was _before_ you and Charlie got into a fight."

"Then you don't want to watch it?"

Elizabeth shakes her head and lifts her hands gently, pressing them together.

"David, you're smart and sweet and very cute and anyone could..."

...and the words trail off because she's not exactly sure what it _could _be.

Elizabeth coughs, finding her ground again. "...Charlie doesn't like you much and it would be really hard to hang out together. It would be a mountain of problems I don't really want deal with. Do you understand?"

"I make people uncomfortable," he says with a shrug. "I know. My sister has told me."

Elizabeth turns around and reaches into her jean's pockets for her car keys.

"I gotta go," she says.

She's going to open the door when she feels his hand fall upon her arm.

#

Once upon a time, David's father gave a big speech about his company. He talked about Prometheus stealing fire from the gods. David knew the story of Prometheus, but he did not understand the metaphor. It's like that for him with a lot of things. He doesn't get the meaning of a poem or the pun of a joke. When David's father talked about Prometheus, David understood the story and did not grasp the meaning.

As he watches Elizabeth turn away and head to the car, he feels a fire in his belly. It spreads across his body and stings. In that moment he knows what father meant: about reaching for a flame, even if it burns. About clutching it even if all that is left is ashes. About daring to be torn to pieces by an eagle.

Plenty of people have walked away from David. It's not like he's had numerous friends, it's not like he hasn't been teased and abandoned. It's not like he doesn't get why she's turning from him. But something has ignited in him and he might be burnt to a crisp. It doesn't really matter.

He reaches out and places his hand on her arm.

"I know you want to be my friend. I want to be your friend," he says. "I want to talk to you. I want to know you. I'd like it if you'd get to know me."

Elizabeth frowns, looking confused.

"I think it would be hard being your friend," she admits.

"It's very likely."

"And there's Charlie. You shouldn't have hurt him."

"No, I shouldn't have."

"You get like that sometimes...right?"

"Yes," he says, nodding. "Sometimes it's...difficult to keep all the equations balanced."

He thinks of it like that: equations, precariously aligned together, chaos waiting in the corner. Frustration and despair battling against his neat numbers. He's watched _Lawrence of Arabia_ 55 times. He has 234 model cars. There are 75 glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling. Numbers which give meaning. People take it away. People are difficult to balance.

"You make me nervous," she says. "I feel like you're a deck of cards that is about to topple."

Elizabeth glances away, her gaze focusing on something he can't see.

Inside him the fire is going down to a simmer, lonely ashes cooling back into nothing. Then she shoots out a hand and grabs the flower she had not taken, gripping it firmly.

"I'd like to see the meteor shower with you."

#

Fifield and Millburn do not watch the meteor shower. They're in Millburn's basement, smoking dope and eating Cheetos. Fifield is asking what Millburn would do if he found an alien snake on a distant planet. Millburn starts talking about xenobiology, very seriously describing how he would pet it, and then they both burst out laughing.

They sip their energy drinks and Fifield says he wants to play a video game and shoot monsters.

#

Charlie does not watch the meteor shower. Charlie lays in bed, watching television. He's going over to the dorms in the nearby college in a few minutes; his cousin's totally getting him into the party. He'd invite Elizabeth but he's got the stinging feeling she wouldn't want to come with him.

Charlie's already started drinking, a couple of beers sitting on the night stand.

He feels kind of mellow, like he's floating in deep space. But he also feels old. Like he's older than his few years and he's already very tired. Buried deep in him there's a need he does not understand.

Charlie pumps up the volume and chuckles when two chicks on a reality TV show begin to bitch slap each other.

#

Ravel does not watch the meteor shower. He's working at the pizza parlor that night and business is still slow. It doesn't get busy until after midnight, when the drunk kids from the nearby college descend upon the restaurant to ask for bland, cheap pizza.

Ravel flips through a magazine and listens to his music, drumming his fingers against the counter.

#

Meredith does not watch the meteor shower. She is making out with her boyfriend, or rather, Janek is making out with her. She makes love to him like it's a favor. She's bored out of her mind. She doesn't know if she can put up with him until the end of the year, well-connected army captain dad or not. At any rate, the end of the year is not that far away. A few more months and she'll be off to university. Off to her real life. Soon, very soon, she'll be running her father's company and that's what really matters.

#

Elizabeth and David sit on the hood of her car. She presses a hand against her neck and feels the cool comfort of the cross nestled against the hollow of her throat. She glances at him. He's busy staring at the sky, waiting for the first meteor to streak the sky.

Elizabeth tilts her head and rests it lightly against his shoulder.

David coils like a spring when she touches him and the fire he felt before spreads from his belly up to his face. He knows he's blushing. He ducks his head.

Elizabeth smiles. She's not exactly sure where they're headed or what is going on, but maybe she'll figure that part tomorrow.

A single meteor crosses the sky and Elizabeth jumps up, excitedly.

"There! The first shooting star is mine!" she says.

"There are going to be several hundred of them," David tells her.

"Well, the first one is mine," she replies smugly.

He likes being next to her, under the canopy of the stars.

David is pretty sure he's never been on the edge of anything like this, heading somewhere he's never been before. A bright moment of panic hits him and his mouth twitches, nerves getting the best of him.

Elizabeth's never been there either but she's pretty sure once you begin walking the tightrope, you can't turn back. You have to hurry across, net or no net.

She grabs his hand.

David 's smile is very wide and she doesn't think she's seen him smile like that ever before. He pulls her close, wraps an arm around her, rests his chin on top of her head.

_Too close for friendship_ , Elizabeth thinks. Too dangerously close and yet she does not move an inch.

Maybe they will burn up, like the shooting stars stumbling into Earth's atmosphere. But isn't it beautiful, wonderful, impossible, just now.

They stand like that, together.

They watch the meteor shower.

The End

(yes, end of the story)


End file.
